


Gonna Do My Very Best

by americaninja



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Based on an ABBA Song, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, sometime during season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americaninja/pseuds/americaninja
Summary: Martin is going to make his feelings known to Jon, even if it's in a bit of a roundabout manner. Luckily, he's got a very catchy song on his side.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	Gonna Do My Very Best

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this because [this SONG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-crgQGdpZR0) came up on my shuffle and I was like "okay but what if this was from martin's perspective" and then my hands slipped.
> 
> This is set sometime during season 2, as that's where I am right now (finished episode 66 as of uploading).

Martin takes a deep breath and steels himself. He’s going to do it. It’s foolproof. It has to work. It _has_ to. 

Sasha walks by, giving him a weird look, but he doesn’t look at her. He takes another deep breath, then pushes through the door into Jon’s office. 

Jon is preparing to record a statement. His hand moves towards the tape recorder when he hears Martin come in. “Need something?” he mutters.

“Oh, just… looking for some files. For the, uh, the space station case,” Martin says.

“Carry on,” Jon says. He doesn’t look at Martin once. 

Martin starts to rummage through the filing cabinets. As he does, he begins to whistle a tune. Not too loudly, but enough that Jon will hear. He takes his sweet time, to the point that he can sense Jon starting to get irritated. At last, he retrieves the documents he was looking for and hurries out of the room, still whistling.

As he closes the door, he thinks he hears Jon starting to hum the tune.

\---

Fuck _this_.

It’s been three hours, and that infernal tune Martin was whistling earlier still hasn’t left his brain. Jon is starting to pull his hair a bit. What _is_ that song? He knows it, he’s sure of it, but he absolutely cannot put a name or a band to it, let alone the lyrics. 

Finally, he gives up. “TIM!” he roars.

There’s a sound of scrambling, and the door bursts open, a bit more extravagantly than necessary. Tim enters and stops halfway between the door and Jon’s desk. “Yes, boss?” he says, grinning.

Jon turns in his chair to face him. “There’s a song stuck in my head, and I promise you I will explode if I don’t figure out what the hell it is. Help me out.”

“Okay? Let’s hear it,” Tim says.

Jon begins to hum. Tim nods along, thinking deeply. After about ten seconds, he holds his hand out to stop Jon. “Take A Chance On Me. ABBA.”

Jon blinks in surprise. He’s a bit impressed. “Thank you, Tim. That’ll be all.”

“Any time,” Tim chuckles. He leaves, closing the door normally this time.

Take A Chance On Me.

Jon opens his search engine and types it in. He knows he’s heard it, of course, but he doesn’t recall the lyrics at all. He clicks on the first result he sees and skims the page.

Oh, lord.

_If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down_

_If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown_

_Honey I'm still free_

_Take a chance on me_ _…_

_Oh you can take your time baby, I'm in no hurry, know I'm gonna get you_

_You don't wanna hurt me, baby don't worry, I ain't gonna let you_ _…_

_Gonna do my very best, baby can't you see_

_Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me..._

Jon begins to sweat. Surely this is a coincidence, Martin whistling this. It’s a catchy tune. He could have heard it on his shuffle while coming into work or something. It doesn't _mean_ anything. Right? 

_Right?_

Jon decides to go home a little early for once. He’s sure he's overthinking this way too much, but it's crowding out his other thoughts and he can't focus on his work.

As he leaves, he passes by Martin’s desk. He doesn’t say anything, but he feels a blush creep into his cheeks. He hopes Martin doesn’t see it.

\---

Martin sees it. He blushes as well.

_It’s working._

He goes home with the song stuck in his head, and has to force himself not to start singing on the Underground.

The next day, much to his surprise, he happens to come in before anyone else, even Jon. Twenty minutes later, Jon enters. Usually, he just sweeps past Martin’s desk and slams the door of his office, tired and prickly as ever. Today, though, he leaves the door just a bit ajar. Fragments of hummed tunes leak out from the crack throughout the morning. Most of the time, when Martin can hear it, it’s part of “Take A Chance On Me,” and that makes his stomach jump. In a good way.

At one point, Sasha goes into Jon’s office to grab some papers, and returns with a puzzled expression on her face. She puts the stack down and leans over Martin’s desk. “I’ve never seen him in such a good mood, especially not since Prentiss attacked. I mean, he’s still got that frown, but he feels… lighter. And I _definitely_ don’t recall him being so prone to humming.”

“Right? It’s weird. Like, I dunno… he’s not _supposed_ to be cheerful. He’s Jonathan Sims, stick-up-his-butt extraordinaire. But he’s _our_ grumpy bastard, y’know? I guess it’s not _bad_ to see him like this, though. God knows he needs it,” Tim says from his desk. He locks eyes with Martin. “ _You’re_ not behind this, are you?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“What? N-No, of course not! If Jon’s feeling more chipper, then I’m glad he is. I have no idea what could have caused this change, honestly,” Martin blurts. Tim just grins and winks before turning back to his work. Sasha sits back down as well, smiling a little to herself. Martin blushes scarlet and stares determinedly at his laptop like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

\---

It’s nearly lunchtime, and Jon is practically bracing himself for Martin to come in and ask if he wants anything. Normally, his intrusions would be an annoyance, but this time, he’s almost… looking forward to it? Why?

Martin opens the door, and just like that, _that song_ leaps to the forefront of Jon’s mind, playing loudly. “Did you want me to get you anything?” Martin says carefully.

“Ah-- mmgh. I’ll just-- I’ll just come with. Last time you got me a sandwich, you forgot to ask for mustard.”

“Oh, sorry,” Martin mutters, not looking at Jon. Jon stands, pulls on his coat, and follows slightly behind Martin as they go up the stairs to the canteen on the first floor. They don’t speak to each other at all as they wait to order their food; Jon asks for a turkey sandwich (with mustard, thank you) and Martin asks for chicken salad. 

They sit at a table near the back. It’s quiet, as usual, with only a couple other occupied tables; most people prefer to grab their lunch and bring it to their desk. For a while, they eat in silence. Finally, Jon clears his throat and looks up at Martin. “Did you get that song stuck in my head on purpose? It sure feels like it.”

Martin, still in the middle of eating, chokes a little on his food. He takes a moment to swallow and chugs from his bottle of ginger ale. “What are you t-talking about?”

“Oh, don’t lie to me. I can’t remember hearing you whistle while you worked before yesterday, and yet as soon as you come into my office, you start up. That’s not a coincidence.”

Martin sighs and smiles a little. The sight makes Jon’s heart skip a beat. “Can’t get anything past you, can I? Okay, maybe it was a little on purpose. Do you like the song?”

“Er, yes. It’s a perfectly good song. I just… well, the _lyrics_. They felt significant, for some reason.”

“What about them?”

“Oh! You know!” Jon says airily. “Do you… have you taken a fancy to someone? It certainly seems that’s what the song is about.”

“I guess you could say that,” Martin mumbles, looking down at his salad. His freckled face becomes bright red, and he brushes a bit of hair out of his eyes. After taking a deep breath, he looks back at Jon. “It’s, ah… well, it’s you I’ve got a crush on.”

Jon blinks. His heart starts beating faster. And in that moment, the realization comes crashing down on him like a ten-ton weight. Not only is Martin Blackwood in love with him, but damn it all, he’s in love with Martin Blackwood right back, and has been for quite a while now. Yes, it all makes sense now; the way he had to force himself to really get mad at Martin, the way looking at Martin made his stomach turn in knots and his words fail him, the way his breath hitched in his throat when Martin spoke, all of it.

_Fuck!_

Martin is still staring at him, growing redder and redder in the face. “Er, I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have-- if you d-don’t reciprocate, I understand.” He starts to get out of his seat, grabbing the remains of his salad to throw it away. “In fact, f-forget I said anything. I’ll just go back to work n--”

Jon stands up and grabs Martin by the wrist. Martin’s eyes widen as a static shock runs through both of them. Jon holds him for perhaps longer than necessary before letting go. He smooths his hair back and scratches at one of the pit-scars on his face. Then he looks directly at Martin and says, “No, I’m sorry. I… I only just realized, consciously and truly, that… I feel the same way about you. Martin, I wish I had admitted it to myself earlier. Then maybe you wouldn’t have had to play these games with me.”

“Oh, I don’t-- I don’t mind. I mean, it worked, didn’t it?” Martin says. A wobbly, awkward smile creeps across his face.

Jon smiles back, gently and a little fretfully. “It did, I won’t argue that. I just wish you hadn’t had to cook up some harebrained scheme in order to get me to understand my own blasted feelings.”

Martin just laughs. “Well, at least it’s out there now. Wow. Oh. _Wow._ Hold on, then. You…”

“ _Yes_ , Martin, you absolute dimwit. I want to be your boyfriend. That is… if you’ll have me.”

Martin’s smile gets bigger and becomes absolutely joyful. “I will. Yes. _Yes_. Oh, but…” He looks around the canteen. No one is paying either of them any attention.

Jon nods. “Let’s discuss this more after work, shall we?”

Martin nods eagerly in response. They both grab their trash and throw it away before exiting the canteen. After a moment of hesitation, Martin offers his hand to Jon. Jon takes it, and they walk back down the stairs into the basement, holding each other tightly.

Before they enter the Archives, they let go. Tim and Sasha don’t need to see anything. Jon’s face returns to its usual stoic glower, and he pushes the door open. Without a word, he strides back to his office and closes the door, though he takes care not to slam it this time. He takes his coat off and throws it over the back of his chair, but doesn’t sit down. Instead, he paces back and forth, running his hands through his hair over and over.

_Oh my god, I’ve got a boyfriend._

\---

Martin sits down at his desk and tries his best not to look like he’s about to explode from the sheer joy of it all. At the sound of Martin’s chair creaking, Tim looks over and grins like a predator who’s just caught sight of his prey. He jumps up, strides over, and crows, “A- _HA!_ I knew it! Look at you, Blackwood, you sly fox!”

“W-What? What are you talking about?” Martin says. He tries to fight back his smile, but he can’t. Tim slings an arm around his shoulder and gives him a noogie before sitting down again.

Sasha returns from the bathroom then. She doesn’t say anything to Martin for the rest of the day, but he can feel her sneaking glances at him all day. 

_Am I really that obvious?_

A couple more hours of work pass. Tim leaves first, slapping Martin on the shoulder as he goes. Half an hour later, Sasha heads out as well, giving him a subtle wink. Martin is alone.

_Alone at last._

He cracks Jon’s door open and says, “Jon? Did you still want to talk?”

Jon starts and looks back. “Ah, yes. Let me finish this statement. Almost done.” 

Martin nods and closes the door. He busies himself with packing his messenger bag with his laptop, books, and pencils. After a few minutes, Jon opens his door and beckons Martin inside.

Martin shuffles inside, and Jon closes the door behind him. They face each other, taking each other’s gazes in for a moment. Martin suddenly wishes he could pull Jon’s wire-rimmed glasses off and bask in the sight of his eyes. 

Jon speaks first. “There’s… something I should tell you. Before we take things any farther. See, I’m asexual. I don’t want to have sex. Love and romance, that’s different, that’s another thing, but sex itself isn’t… something I’m interested in. So if that’s any kind of a deal breaker, I understand.” He looks down and rubs his hand over his scarred shoulder.

Martin takes him by the wrist and guides his hand away from his shoulder. He clasps Jon’s hand in his own and pulls Jon closer. “It’s not a deal breaker. I’m just glad to be with you at _all_ , really.” He giggles, and Jon blushes a deep reddish-brown.

“In that case, then… can I kiss you?” Jon whispers, leaning over slightly.

“Gladly,” Martin murmurs, and then Jon’s lips are on his. It’s a quick kiss, hesitant and unsure, but it makes him feel like he’s a balloon ready to burst.

Jon pulls away, and his eyes are shining softly, not with tears, but with the same feeling that Martin feels in his chest. He pulls his glasses off and sets them on the desk. The bottom drops out of Martin’s stomach as he looks into Jon’s brilliant green eyes. “I never noticed… how bright your eyes are,” he says. 

Jon blinks. “And I never noticed how nice your hair is.” He reaches out and runs a hand through Martin’s burst of red hair for a moment. 

Martin responds by pulling Jon close again and kissing him. He feels Jon melt a bit under his touch, under the soft heat between their lips, and it takes everything he’s got not to melt as well and break the kiss. Then Jon wraps an arm around his waist, and that gives him the strength to kiss harder.

It feels like an hour before they finally stop, but it’s only been a few minutes. Martin is utterly breathless. Jon looks shocked at himself, quite frankly. “I didn’t realize I had that in me,” he says.

“Then I must be the luckiest guy in the world,” Martin breathes. “I wish we could do this all night.”

Jon glances at the clock. “Maybe just a little bit longer.”

“If you insist,” Martin says with a grin, and then Jon is kissing him again, and he doesn’t think it could get any better than this.

\---

The next day, Jon comes in to find Martin there before him again, with no sign of Tim or Sasha. He looks around furtively for a moment before planting a kiss on the back of Martin’s head and heading into his office. On his desk is a note in Martin’s handwriting. It reads:

_Gonna do my very best, baby can't you see_

_Gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me_

Jon grabs a pushpin and sticks it to the corkboard on the wall, right in the middle. For the rest of the day, he keeps glancing back at it. And when he walks to the Underground station that night, hand in Martin’s hand, he thinks about it again. 

_I’m glad_ you _took a chance on_ me.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Someday I'll figure out how to indent paragraphs correctly. Someday.


End file.
